Running for home
by takethis2urgrave
Summary: Zephyr is not your average girl, she surfs, fixes things and doesn't take shit from anybody. She knows where she is headed and knows what she wants from life. Until her whole life changes in the blink of an eye. Suddenly, she is adrift in a sea of despair. Can she ever be whole again? It might take a special place to help her find herself again, with the help of a furry wolf.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter one: Broken

There are very few things I require when I blow in to a new town: a good pizza shop (or at least access to a running stove and food shop), somewhere to get fresh fruit, and access to a garage where I can work on my pride and joy-a 1969 Ford Mustang 'Boss 429' in glossy black, named Maria. It's an added bonus if there's somewhere I can surf as well, but not a strict necessity.

Other than that, I can pretty much handle living anywhere, for short lengths of time. The exact length depends on how good the pizza is. I'm not even hung up on the accommodation facilities, so long as my other requirements are met. I've grown accustomed to sleeping rough.

I've been pretty much living out of the beautiful Maria for the last few months, ever since the 'incident'. Before that I had been living in Hawaii, or Maui to be exact, which is one of the Hawaiian Islands. I'd been living there for almost three months, working in a bar at night and teaching surf lessons to tourists during the day, when I got the phone call.

If there is one thing every person fears, it's the 3am phone call-the 'bad news' phone call. You know the one I'm talking about right. Your phone rings in the wee hours and you wake up, heart almost bursting out of your chest, knowing it's gonna be bad news. No one rings that early except, like, policemen and doctors telling you someone you love has either died or is lying in a hospital bed somewhere barely clinging to life. So of course, when I got a call at 11pm at the bar, I was not expecting bad news. I was thinking booty call, not life altering bad news call.

When I answered the phone the detective introduced himself. That's all it took for me to understand that there was something wrong. I didn't really hear much past him saying mum and Matt's names, didn't need him to say it to know they were dead. A car accident. Something as pointless as a dog on the road and my mum and stepdad were gone.

The weeks after that call run together in my mind.

I know I got a flight back to Los Angeles, organised a double funeral, packed up a home and put it on the market, heard the will readings, all those things. But I don't clearly recall any of it. The detective who first called me, Jack Collins, was a huge help, going above and beyond any possible calls of duty. He was a close friend of my step dads. He pretty much held my hand throughout the entire ordeal. He had helped me with all the funeral arrangements and packing up the house. And once it was all over and I was at a loss with what to do next, it was he who gave me the idea to just get in my car and go. He told me not to worry about where I was going, told me I'd know I was there when I felt like I had come home again. And he told me to call anytime I needed him and he'd come running. Through that horrific time in my life something amazing had happened. Jack had become like family. The only family I had left.

And so I had got in my car and started to drive. Initially, I had headed inland. Then after a month of exploring Las Vegas, Salt Lake, as far as Colorado Springs and everywhere in between, I headed back towards LA and followed the California coastline north.

I stayed in many different places. Occasionally I stayed in nice hotels or mostly decent motels. But more often than not I slept rough, in a tent or my car. I rarely had any trouble. And if I did, I left town soon after. Whenever I felt the need, I would pick up random guys, use them and move on. I tended to stick to cop bars though, just to be on the safe side.

And for some reason, it helped me feel closer to Jack. Sitting surrounded by people doing the same job as him, helping people like me. He would ring me every few weeks to make sure I was doing okay, and I sent him the odd text and postcard so he could see where I had been. They were never more than a few sentences long. But it helped to know there was someone out there who cared about me.

Time passed. As it must. Sometimes it seemed to rush by and other times it seemed to drag. The latter was always worse. I would find myself thinking of mum and Matt a lot. When that happened I would book into a motel and spend days just crying, or sleeping in an alcohol induced haze.

At a place called Newport I decided to head inland and check out Salem. Whilst there I did the whole touristy thing and checked out all the witch stuff, including the parts about the witch trials, which I found extremely interesting. I had always enjoyed history while I was at school. After that I spent some time in Portland. Next up I followed the state lines to Hermiston, for no other reason than it was a place to go and I had nothing but time. While I was there Jack called and, when he heard where I was, told me I should head for Olympia. He had a sister there he was meant to be spending the 4th of July holiday with and made me promise to catch up with him there. I had a while to get there so stopped in Seattle on the way.

Living in a car for over five months meant I didn't have a lot of room for many clothes. In Seattle I gave all my clothes away and went shopping. I got a little carried away and spent a lot on new lingerie, and even more on clothes. Not that I was trying to impress anyone. It had been a while since I'd felt sexy, let alone wanted to. It was something I could do just for myself. And it made me feel good. Something I hadn't been in ages.

I spent the holiday with Jack and his sister's family. They were all really welcoming. It was good to spend time with Jack. Considering I hadn't known him long before I'd left, I had missed him. He was like the big brother I never knew I wanted. But it had been so long since I'd been around people and I didn't feel very comfortable. He asked me if I would ever move home again. I wasn't able to answer him for a few minutes as the pain threatened to crush my heart again.

"I don't think I have a home anymore. It's like that saying 'Home is where the heart is'. Mum and Matt are gone. The house is sold. My heart isn't there. It's locked in the urns in Maria's glove box" I didn't want to talk about it.

"You're too young to think that way. But I get it. One day you'll be able to get your heart back though. Trust me on this one," he smiled. There was something in it I recognised, something that was broken but was beginning to heal.

That was all he said about it. The rest of the week we spent in Olympia we talked about travelling. He told me about places he had been, and the places he still wanted to see. I told him all the places I'd been: New Zealand, Australia, Samoa and Hawaii. He had never been to New Zealand, so I told him it should be number one on his list. He had been to a lot of the places I still wanted to go. Like Italy, Greece and Peru.

By the time he was due to go home I had grown comfortable being with people and I knew it would be hard to get back into Maria by myself. The others seem to sense how I felt but Jack had to get back to work and I didn't want to hang around Olympia without him. So after saying my goodbyes, and Gina (his sister) packing my car with baking, I left.

I even managed to make it to Hoquiam before I had to lock myself in a motel room and cry myself into oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two: Changing Tactics

It's truly amazing just how many tears you can cry. I've cried so much this year that I'm honestly surprised I don't resemble a raisin. Or at least a soggy, snotty, crumpled up tissue.

It took me over a week to keep driving after my crying jag in Hoquiam. The lady, whose name was Jamie, in the office where I was staying started getting worried after the second night of me not leaving my room. She forced me to have breakfast, lunch and dinner with her on the third day, and the fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth days too. She was very lovely. I couldn't figure out why she cared about me so much, so I asked her.

"Well to be honest, my youngest moved out last month. I can get pretty lonely here by myself," she didn't seem to mind my asking.

I found it so easy to talk to her. She didn't pressure me to tell her anything. Or expect me to confide all my fears to her. I just found myself opening up to her. And I think that she helped me. Not to get over my parents deaths exactly, but to help me move a few feet in the right direction. I finally felt like I was ready to stop somewhere for longer than a week at a time. I just wasn't sure where I wanted to stop. I knew I couldn't go back to L.A.

An ad in a newspaper left behind by one of the other tenants seemed to be the perfect answer to my problem.

_Qualified car mechanic wanted._

_Part time position with flexible hours and negotiable pay._

_Applications to be sent to: Jack All Mechanics, Attn: , Johnson Road, Forks, WA 98331._

"I've found it Jamie!" I called out as I came into the office. I had been cleaning out the recently vacated room as a repayment for her generosity.

"Found what hun?" she asked looking up from her crossword.

"The answer!" my voice rose in excitement. She was giving me a confused look so I explained. "I know what to do! I'm gonna apply for this job," I showed her the ad.

She read it quickly and then looked at the front page, "Ah, this paper is two weeks old sweetie."

My bubble burst as suddenly as it had come. Of course it was an old paper. Those people had been in that room longer than I'd been here.

Jamie saw my defeated expression, "Hey, don't worry about it. Why don't you ring them and see if they've hired anyone. It can't hurt to try."

So I did.

The phone rang a few times before a blast of music issued from the phone's speaker. I heard someone yelling to turn it down then someone talking, "Jack all. What can I do for you today?"

"Ah, hi. I was just ringing about the ad you had in the paper a few weeks back. Have you hired anyone yet?" I wasn't feeling very optimistic.

"Oh, nah we haven't yet. We're still interviewing at the moment. Are you qualified?" I could hear the scepticism in the guy's voice.

"Yeah I am. So should I send in my c.v? Or am I wasting my time?"

"Hmm. Why don't you just come by and bring it in. We can do the interview at the same time, if that suits you."

"Yeah that's perfect. I can bring it round tomorrow. Thanks," yay! I might still be in with a chance.

"Sounds good. How about you come by about 11."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks. See you tomorrow," I hang up and do a spazzy little dance. Yay!

It suddenly occurs to me I don't have my c.v. I left it with the rest of the stuff I didn't want to get rid of at Jacks. One phone call later and I'm sitting at Jamie's fax collecting up the pages spewing out of it. Jack was nice enough to race home and dig it out for me.


	3. Chapter 3

_Stupid goddamn leeches._

Groaning, I drag my aching body from the bed and stagger to the shower. For about twenty minutes all I can bring myself to do is stand under the streaming water with my arms braced against the wall to keep my balance. Everything hurts, though I know my bodies healing from the hot tingly feeling everywhere. It's almost like pins and needles except the feeling is all over. I had had to push my body to the brink last night and the effort had almost broken me. Something that was not easy to do considering all the freaky wolf genes.

I had just hung up the phone at work yesterday when a howl tore through the air.

~/~/~/~

Fuck. Dropping the phone on the workbench, I look over at Quil. He just nods and points me to the door. Taking off outside, I enter the forest and drop my pants. When Quil and I opened the shop, over two years ago now, we built a small room in the forest right behind the shop. Inside are a bed, a shower and a dresser full of shorts, specifically for emergencies while we're at work. I chuck my shorts through the open door and quickly phase.

_Okay, what's going on? _I demand as soon as I join the pack link.

_Got some vamps, east of town. At least three, as far as I can tell, _Seth quickly fills me in. I head towards the rez, keeping an ear out for any more vamps.

_So how we gonna play this, Boss? _Brady questions. He and Seth are patrolling together today. Luckily for me. Out of the 12 active wolves we have, Seth, Colin and Brady were among the most experienced. Only myself and Quil had more kills. We approach the area where Seth sensed the vamps.

_Okay. Seth head out south, Brady go north. I will go east and we'll try and cage them in. Go for the kill but don't get stupid. And be careful. _As soon as I've issued the orders, the others do as I say. We spread out and follow the scent east. After running for about twenty minutes, I spot the first leech. A female. Great. They're usually harder to kill, putting up more of a fight than the males.

_I got a male here,_ Brady tells us.

_Female, _Seth.

We all converge on the blood suckers, herding them all in together. The male is quickly despatched by Brady. The females, however, put up much more of a fight. Those she-demons fight dirty. Obviously, their immense beauty and female wiles don't affect us like they do a human guy. But it doesn't stop them trying. Then out come the fangs and all semblance of humanity disappears from their features. Masks of pure hatred come over their faces and the claws come out. Even with three of us, it takes over an hour to destroy them. But as soon as we get the last body parts piled up and Seth lights them, another two males and a female come tearing through the woods snarling. Looks like we just decimated half their coven. The ensuing fight is downright nasty. And, after a few fractured ribs on my part, a broken arm for Seth and a shattered foot for Brady, we manage to destroy them all.

After cleaning up the pieces, I sent Seth and Brady to Jakes to get patched up and called in Collin, Jayson and Flea early for the night shift. Then I had headed back to work to grab some clothes and grab my car before heading over to Jakes to check on the boys myself.

~/~/~/~

So when I woke up, although my ribs are all but healed, I still felt like I'd gone eight rounds with Mike Tyson.

I ease myself out of the shower and wrap a towel round my hips. Glancing over at the clock on the dresser, I realise I've slept in and missed half a day of work and the interview I set up yesterday with the chick wanting the part time mechanics job.

Shit.

Oh well. Quil would have handled it I'm sure. I check my phone to make sure he hasn't rung. No new messages, so he mustn't be too pissed off.

I pull on a pair of old sweat shorts and a shirt before making my way down the hall.

I grab some food before heading to the workshop.

"Hey, Quil. Miss me?" I ask as I enter the workshop. Our workshop has only been open 2 years and already we've had heaps of business. There are currently three cars on the floor and two in the painting bay. This is why we've just taken on Flea as an apprentice painter and why we are looking to hire a new mechanic.

"Not so much. It's been nice and quiet till you turned up. And I took care of the interview."

"Cool thanks. So how did it go?" I ask, not feeling overly confident about the girl I talked to on the phone.

"Actually it went very well. I got Rosalie to come in and interview her with me, seeing as how she's a qualified mechanic and all. Luckily she was only in Vancouver."

"Cool. So what's the verdict then?"

"She starts on Monday," he answers as he flops down on the smoke-o couch.

"And she's seriously hot!" Flea adds as he comes out of the painting bay.

"Really? That will make working with you ugly mugs a little more enjoyable. So what's her name anyway? I don't think she told me when we set up the interview."

"Now that's the funny part. It's Zephyr. Like the car. And her last name is McQueen, like off that kids movie from when I was a kid," Flea answers.

"Zephyr McQueen? Weird name. Doesn't really matter as long as she can fix cars."

"I'm sure she can. Rosalie couldn't find anything to complain about, and believe me she tried. Grilled her on everything she could think of then got her to diagnose what was wrong with that thing," he gestures to the 1998 Holden commodore sitting on the workshop floor. That stupid car had taken me the best part of a day to diagnose.

"And she figured it out?"

"Yep, in half an hour," Quil laughs at me.

"Fuck." I couldn't believe it. "That's impressive."

"Not the only impressive thing. I thought you might have recognised the last name. She apprenticed with her stepfather before inheriting his business. The famous Matt McQueen." Quil sounds a little star struck.

I can understand why. Matt McQueen had built his way up to being a formula one race car driver before opening his first workshop. He was pretty much the undisputed best mechanic and classic car restorer in the business, until his recent death anyway. I can't help the low whistle that escapes my lips. "Wow."


End file.
